


Hidden in the Sun

by marblecoffee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Kidnapping Dan Howell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marblecoffee/pseuds/marblecoffee
Summary: Kidnapping AU. Dan Howell is kidnapped, arriving in a room with Anna, a girl who has been there a long time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Entirely fictional. No offence intended.
> 
> WARNING: This story contains contains mentions of non-con and sexual situations, with unhealthy relationships and injury (and a little bit of strong language). Please do not read if this is triggering for you.

When I heard the door lock buzzing, I knew it would be the new boy. Graham had been awfully excited that morning so I couldn't help but assume. As the metal door swung open, I caught my first glimpse. He was pale, with straight brown hair, and far taller than me. Graham held him harshly, and marks of the boy's struggle showed in blood and bruises on his cheeks and arms.

"Get in," Graham grunted, shoving the boy forwards. He stumbled into the room with a gasp, landing helplessly against the bed with a loud thud. Although he staggered back to his feet, bubbling with expletives, Graham pushed him again heavily, and the boy's bound wrists meant he simply fell onto the bed. He struggled further, easing himself up to look back to Graham, whom now ignored the boy.  
"An hour," he demanded to me. Quickly, the door shut and lock buzzed again.

When it closed, the boy fell gracefully flat back against the bed now since being defeated by the lock. I watched him. Illuminated by the sun through the roof light, I could see his features more clearly. He was not a boy as I had imagined - indeed, he seemed older than me. When I stood from my seat, I saw better the dirt and blood marking his skin, so retrieved a damp cloth from the kitchen. With slow movements, I sat on the bed beside him. Cloth on my lap, I first focused on untying the bonds tightly holding his hands. He watched me with wide eyes, entirely vulnerable. He began to mutter something but seemingly decided against it. Already I could feel his submission. I picked at the tape, frustrated I had nothing sharp to cut it with. Finally I managed to make a tear in it, and after a few moments of tugging at it, the tape finally came from him.

The boy shifted in his newfound freedom, bringing his arms in front of him and flexing his purpling wrists. In continuing silence, I handed him the cloth. He accepted it and I left him to clean himself, sparing him at least that embarrassment in front of me. Truly, I did not think his cheeks could turn a deeper shade of red, in spite of the blood. Although I could not leave him entirely, for we only had one room, I could move to the kitchen in the corner, so boiled the kettle whilst waiting for him. With one teabag I made two cups of tea, sparing only his a dash of milk.

I placed it on the table beside the bed, allowing him to pick it up as I returned to my seat.  
"Thank you," he mumbled, voice rough from his time with Graham. I nodded and turned my gaze to the cup of tea. When he sipped, I smiled at his grimace, well aware that my tea was probably the worst he had ever tried. It is hard to achieve culinary success with bare cupboards and value food.

"I'm sorry - it is bitter."  
"That's alright," he answered politely, voice already recovering with help of the drink.  
"I'm Anna."  
"Dan." Carefully, he shifted so he was facing me, still sipping at his cup of tea, wincing every time.  
"Is that the tea, or have you hurt-"  
"It's not the tea," he answered slowly, "it's my wrists. They feel... Torn." I nibbled at my lip.  
"I wouldn't worry too much, not for a few days. They just look bruised for now." Dan frowned and looked back down to his mug.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," I began, "but how old are you?"  
"Twenty three."  
"Oh." Dan looked confused by my response.  
"Why? How old are you?"  
"I should be eighteen, I think. I just... Dates, I lose track. It's been a long while here - a year or so."  
"And now me," added Dan forlornly.  
"He's said for some time he wanted a boy - I just pictured someone younger is all." Dan hummed, and a sharp laugh escaped him. The laughter continued only for a moment before turning suddenly into tears.  
"Oh god," he whispered, setting the tea down and pulling his body inwards. "Oh god, oh Christ."

I could hear his fast breathes and small anguished moans choking amongst tears, and practically feel his racing heart pulsing through the air. I edged closer, out of my seat, and saw his face damp with tears and snot. After fetching him a tissue, I sat beside him on the bed. Not touching, but there, and whispering words-  
"I know it's hard. You got up this morning like any other day, and now everything has changed. You never thought something like this would happen to you, and now you're here and it feels hopeless. You see me and realise you may well be stuck here for as long as I have been, but you must have hope. Even after all this time, I believe I will escape here. Sooner, now, since you are here too... and, until then, you'll manage. You'll adjust to the food, and understand what Graham wants, and you'll be okay. I promise you that."  
"How can you promise such a thing?" breathed Dan, wiping urgently at his face to look at me.

"Because I know it. In my heart. It sounds pitiful, and trite, and all things ridiculous, but sometimes your heart is the truest thing." He looked to me apathetically.  
"Terribly poetic." His attempt at lightening the mood. I rolled my eyes and moved from the bed, giving him space.  
"English was my favourite subject," I admitted. "When I go to University, I hope to study Literature. Maybe then I'll write novels about myself, or become a journalist and help other people who are broken and stuck - help through my articles."

"They're good plans," mumbled Dan. "Better than mine ever were."  
"What were they?" Dan wiped at his eyes again, face flushed once more. He seemed to shift quickly from his tears to a peace, even if somewhat restless. I sympathised with his jitteriness. In such a situation, one realises both the resilience and fragility of a human. Dan wavered between both, remaining courageous even in his fear, yet fearful in his courage.

"Law," he began, drawing me back to him. "A degree in Law at Manchester University. Only managed the first year though, as I dropped out after that. Pursued a career in social media. YouTube."  
"You worked with the company?"  
"No, I- I made videos."  
"And you could make money out of this?"  
"I was... Quite successful." Now he was bashful. I smiled at that.  
"Quite successful," I mimicked. "I'm certain that means you're basically a celebrity. Making enough money from it, your must have millions of followers." Dan hinted a smile and raised an eyebrow, returning to his mug, but placing it back down when he remembered it's taste, and how the movement hurt his wrists.

"Should I be worried?"  
"About your wrists?" I asked. He nodded. "Well, not for now... It's hardly like we can do anything. We'll keep an eye on them."  
"If we get out tonight, I can have the-"  
"Tonight? No, no, tonight would be the worst time to try. He'll be on full alert, ready for your attempt. Ready for me too."  
"And you're so certain because?"  
"I tried. First night here, I hid by the door, and when he opened it I smashed him round the head with a pan. Well, tried to - despite himself, he has good reflexes, and avoided the brunt of the blow. Took over the attack from that point."  
"I'm sorry."  
"It's not your doing." I sighed, and pretended I was over it in order to carry on. "It's in the past - now, we must come up with a new plan. A better one. That will require time."

Reluctantly, Dan agreed.  
"First things first: Graham is coming back soon," I retailed. Dan swallowed heavily.  
"Not _that_ again, today?"  
"No, not _that_ ," I mumbled, glancing at him quickly. It was easy enough to assume Graham had indulged in his new fruit before bringing him here.  
"Can you be sure?"  
"No, but," I continued hastily, "I can predict it's more likely he wants something domestic. It... He's an- unusual man. He wants relationship more than anything. A pretence of domesticity in the locked shed at the bottom of his garden... so I give that to him, since if he can't get domesticity he will put more far more time and effort into other pursuits."  
"By that you mean?"  
"Sex," I sighed, "among other things. Rape. When he... when he's in his fairytale world, that night is far gentler. As much as I hate myself for it, I'd rather that to when he is lonely and bitter and takes it out on me. When he is violent, horrid."  
"I'm sorry," Dan comforted, handing me the tissue I had given him. It was only then that I noticed my tears. I took it and dabbed at them quickly before throwing it to the bin.

"We talk of the past," I declared, "but must focus on the present. We need to get ready. I've lost track of time - he could be here any moment. Could you set up the table?" Quite willingly Dan rose to help, but I was careful to watch for where he hurt: his limp, and his clearly painful arms, with their purple pattern of bruises.  
"Would you like something warmer to wear?" I asked, suddenly noticing his shivers.  
"No, I'm alright," Dan began, but when I presented him my large, dark hoodie, I could see how grateful he was for it. However, he quickly realised a problem.  
"I'll help you out it on, if you like."  
"I'm sure..."  
"It gets icy cold in here at night. Please, let me help." Dan nodded, so I climbed to stand on top of the bed, helping nudge the jumper over his arms. All it took was a little manoeuvring, and some hidden hisses from Dan, but we managed it.  
"Thank you," he mumbled with a blush. I must admit, he looked rather cute, with his flushed cheeks and jumper that was a little too small, settling up his forearms and about his midriff.  
"Not a problem," I replied with a smile, turned back to my kitchen and retrieving dinner.

"Is he... eating with us?" asked Dan, laying the forks and plates I had given him on the table.  
"Sometimes - depends if he has deigned to give us nice food or not. For the past few days we have had this, with a bitter cup of tea," I answered, carrying a supermarket cake with me to the table. "He refuses to buy nicer tea bags, but trust me, you'll get used to it." Quite honestly, Dan responded-  
"I'm more worried about what else there is to eat, rather than tea bags." As he spoke, he glanced at me - how thin I looked, swallowed up in my large jumper and jeans with my big slippers.  
"We'll get by," I answered quietly. "He brings me shopping once a week - all cheap, but manageable. Cornflakes and milk for breakfast, bread and jam for lunch, then something for dinner - pasta, soup..."  
"Oh, I guess that sounds alright," frowned Dan.  
"It's never enough," I answered, lightly tapping my stomach.

"This cake looks good though," continued Dan.  
"That's because it's for him. Whatever he will eat with us will always be far nicer than what he buys for us to eat alone... but I, at least, am grateful for this small luxury." I moved back to pour more tea, with the teabag starting in Graham's and ending in mine.  
"Can I help?" asked Dan. I brushed off the suggestion, already carrying the mugs over.

 _Zeep-click-zeap-pah_  
As the lock buzzed, I quickly reached for the chair I was sat on earlier, so we had enough seats. When Graham saw the set up, he sighed contentedly. Having quickly locked the door behind him, he moved round to stand by me.  
"Shopping?" I asked, looking at the plastic bag in his hand.  
"Clothes," he answered, throwing the bag by the cupboard, "for Dan." He smiled widely at Dan as he said it, but Dan sat frozen, looking just under Graham's chin. I could sense anger in them both... and fear, from Dan.  
"Tea, Graham?" I asked.  
"Oh thank you, dear." He kissed my head, giving my hair a rub. 

 _Freeze, ignore the feeling, hold inside, block it out._ That was how I stayed sane through his affections. Of course, it never really worked... but I pretended it did. Pretended afterwards that I didn't feel anything, that it wasn't real.

"How do you like our guest?" asked Graham sweetly, eyeing Dan with fondness as he sat down.  
"A temporary stay?" _I hoped so._ Graham just laughed, and Dan tensed. Clearly the answer was no.  
"Why me?" asked Dan under his breath, fingering his mug.  
"Why you, ey," pondered Graham. "You tell him, love?"  
"You're... you're perfect," I reflected, looking between Graham and Dan. Dan looked up at me, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes. "Not only in how you look - your pale skin, like snow, and dark hair. The image of a fairytale - Snow White in the forest, taken in to the family of dwarves." Graham chuckled to himself. I knew he would like the image - he always had an obsession with those fairytale ideas of perfection.  
"Quite the fancy," muttered Graham, reaching out a hand to stroke Dan's hair. Instantly, Dan flinched away. Graham huffed, and looked to me bitterly.  
"You told him the rules?"  
"I did not have much time," I admitted. Graham snorted.  
"You had plenty of time-"  
"-To prepare tea and cake," I interrupted with fake joviality.  
"You hardly had to make it," complained Graham, but accepting a slice I cut for him with a fork all the same. Graham watched us as I served two more slices, and stayed staring at Dan as he took a bite.

"How far did you drive?" I asked, hoping to draw attention away from Dan. I was not sure he was really coping with this situation. Not after his earlier encounters with Graham.  
"Just an hour or so," he answered.  
"There was no traffic?"  
"M1 cleared out once we got outta London. Weren't a bother, really."  
"I'm glad."  
"Drugs worked a treat," grinned Graham. I wasn't so glad about that; Could've been Dan's chance to escape. Dan was shaking again, but not from cold. Despite those trembles, he still manage to glare across the table at Graham. I closed my eyes a moment, praying there would be no retaliation.

It seemed there was not, for Graham was practically beaming back. It was unusual to see him so happy, yet it did nothing to soften him. He face still reminded me of rusting scaffolding, with harsh bones and discoloured, wrinkled skin. Always dusty and always dry, I'd generally assumed him to be a builder. It would explain the broken skin on his hands, and the muscles he hid under his plaid shirts.

We continued to eat in silence: Graham grinning, Dan tense, and I simply staring down at my cake. Normally I'd try to enjoy these moments - pretend it was home, and make the most of the food - but it was near impossible in the atmosphere at that point.  
"I'll turn the light on," I muttered, rising to flick the switch by the door. With a hasty flicker, the room filled with a dim orange light, taking away the shadows the late afternoon had begun to create.  
"All the better to see you with." If it was even possible, Graham seemed to get more joyful at his own reference.

"So, Dan, tell us a bit about yourself," prompted Graham. Dan refused to talk, so Graham shifted and asked again-  
"Yourself. I trust you have something to tell?" Still Dan would not reply.  
"He's a youtuber," I mumbled, sucking at my lips.  
"And that is?" questioned Graham with a blink and shake of his head.  
"He makes videos, online - like a video blog."  
"Oh really," hummed Graham, eyeing Dan. When I turned to the boy, he was no longer looking down - he was staring at me, with an awful, piercing look. He was hurt and he was angry and I wasn't quite sure why. Clearly he did not accept the apology I tried to send through wide eyes.

"You make money from this, boy?"  
"Enough," answered Dan, deeply red and refusing to look at Graham.  
"What the fuck does that mean?"  
"I pay the rent, I buy my food; I get by."  
"Get by in London, that requires more than enough money. You must be loaded."  
"You live in London?" I asked.  
"It's where I picked him up from," explained Graham. "All alone - the perfect target."

 _Clink_  
Dan heavily put his plate on the table, and finally looked at Graham.  
"Well now I have your attention," he mused.  
"I would like to lie down," said Dan, spitting each word out. "I am tired."  
"Why of course. It has been a long day for us all." Graham stood from the table, brushing the crumbs from his jeans. "First, though, you must try these. Tell me if they fit." Scooping the Tesco bag from the floor, Graham threw it to Dan who barely managed to catch it.  
"In the morning," answered Dan, shuffling onto the bed with the bag, his back to Graham.

Thankfully, Graham was in a good mood, for he did not retaliate. Instead, he held a hand out to me. Our pale fingers intertwined, and he pulled me carefully from my seat and to him. Despite myself, I held to him. Something of familiarity in it.

 _It's not real, he's not there, it's not my fault..._ And yet I could not help but hold to him. He was happy and warm, and he was not drunk. I craved that normalcy, that comfort, even if I found it in him. Dan glanced back to us, but quickly turned away. I shied from Graham when I saw how Dan looked at us, feeling guilty for liking being held.

"I'll see you tommorow?" I whispered.  
"Maybe, little Anna - you'll have to wait an see." He tapped my nose - I scrunched it, not particularly welcoming that gesture - but allowed the short evening kiss. A peck on the cheek, and then on the lips.  
"Sleep well," he declared, striding to the door. I kept where I stood, knowing that if I were too close he'd be suspicious I was trying to escape. Dan still would not look to him, so I said goodbye in place of us both.  
_Zeep-click-zeap-pah._  
We were alone once more.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dab at my lips with the back of my hand. Promise myself it's not real. He didn't actually kiss me. I didn't kiss him back. This is all fictional. It's fine. I should just go sleep._

"Why did you do that?" Dan turned, standing from the bed and stepping towards me. I stepped back towards the kitchen.  
"Do what?"  
"That- that act! That relationship, it's-"  
"Being good keeps me safe," I interrupted firmly.  
"What, and telling him about me does too? For Gods sake, you could of at least lied. I trusted you, but you go and tell it to him."  
"I didn't realise you were hiding that." Dan groaned and turned away, pacing back to stand by the bed before turning to me again.  
"He is vile. The fact he even knows my name - to hear him say it - it disgusts me."  
"I'm sorry..."  
"He's a rapist - a paedophile - how can you sit there with him when you know that! How can you bear to be civil with him after what he had done?"  
"I don- I don't see that, I see-"  
"You don't see because you are blinded by this room. You're stuck inside your head and can't see what this man has done to you."

"Stop it!" I cried, lunging forwards. "You know nothing, nothing about me! About anything! You've been here less than a day and profess to know what's going on in my head, and his character." I pressed a hand to the wall, steadying myself.  
"I know it because I have only been here a few hours."  
"You don't," I cried, "know." I turned from him to face the counter of the kitchen, quickly moving to the sink to splash water on my face in an attempt to stop crying. Behind me, I could hear the springs of the bed as Dan sat down on it, and the thud as he leant against the headboard.

"I'm not going mad," I whispered to myself. "I know who I am, who Graham is. I know I am here now, and that some day I will escape."  
"I'm sorry," called Dan. "I din- didn't mean to hurt you." I splashed more water on my face, and tapped it clean with the towel. Whilst not speaking to him just yet, I did look to him, showing my forgiveness even when I could not admit it.

Dan sat watching me for a while as I tidied up: boxing the cake, washing the dishes, then fetching a single carrot from the fridge and snapping it in two.  
"Thank you," he said, accepting half when I joined him on the bed. Sat together, I gently closed my eyes, just listening to the crunching of his carrot.  
"I know I'm not the same as I was. I do what I must do now... But I'm not mad. I'm not blind."  
"Of course you're not," promised Dan. A hand came to rest on my knee - clearly his attempt at comfort. I watched it warily, deciding on my response to the touch. Deeming it harmless, I allowed it to rest there. Even in his fluctuating emotions and ignorant actions, I appreciated having him with me.

"You must not aggravate him, in future," I insisted, opening my eyes to take a bite of my carrot.  
"Did I today?" Dan asked, somewhat confused.  
"You didn't answer his questions," I explained, "and he finds that rather rude."  
"I'll try to."  
"You also didn't- when he reached- you-"  
"I won't let him touch me." Dan moved his hand from my knee to hold tight to the remaining nub of his carrot.  
"But he-"  
"You may, but I won't." Suddenly Dan's company wasn't so pleasant. He jeopardised our peace, and had the arrogance to point a finger at me.  
"They're only little touches," I insisted.  
"No," repeated Dan. "I will never let that happen."  
"Please-"  
"Can we just stop?" asked Dan. "I really am tired, and don't want to fight with you." Reluctantly, I nodded.

"I only have one toothbrush," I muttered, pointing just past the door, to the opposite wall of the kitchen where a toilet, bath and cupboard resided.  
"That's alright," replied Dan. I fetched it from the cupboard and handed it with the toothpaste to him, allowing him to use it first. It gave me a minute to calm from my anger at him (and eat my carrot). Hostility and arguments would do neither of us any good... but, then again, neither would Dan's lack of cooperation.  
"Should I change?"  
"It's cold. Stay as you are." As we had with the toothbrush, we each took a turn using the toilet, turning away and focusing on the wall whilst the other used it. Following that embarrassment, I was glad to finally turn the light off. We climbed into bed beside each other, careful to keep a respectful distance between us. There was a period of silence, interrupted only by the buzzing fridge, chuckling pipes and our gentle breaths.

"Will he come again in the morning?"  
"Only ever in the evening, and even then, not every day."

Another silence.

"Did you mean what you said?"  
"You'll have to elaborate," I answered.  
"About me - the fairy tales, Snow White - is that all true?"  
"Yes - it is why he chose both of us... We fit into his idea of a fairytale; his own magic at the bottom of the garden."  
"It's a perverted fairytale," stated Dan.  
"Yeah, and we're stuck in the pages of it."  
"Well then, we need to come up with a plan to escape," Dan remarked.

"I've been thinking, but I-"  
"Can't we just find out the code, to the door?"  
"He always covers it with his hand. There's no chance of just seeing it. Plus he won't let us stand close enough - we must always be stood back from the doors when he enters or leaves."  
"Surely, once he's unlocked it, we could overpower him?"  
"I don't want to get hurt again," I mumbled, unconsciously rubbing my foot along my shin.  
"There's two of us, and one of him; the odds are in our favour."  
"He's strong - more so than you may think. It would be foolish to just attack him, as chances are we would never win. Besides, I don't think I can manage that again."  
"Will you at least consider it?"  
"I could."

A night passed in its usual form: nightmares, chills and hunger disrupting my sleep. I suspected Dan was equally disturbed but daren't ask. At dawn, the sun began to peek through the roof light. I stretched my arms up, ignoring their pain to marvel at the way the sun made the hairs on my arms golden, and hid some of the blemishes and bruises and marks that refused to leave. Lowering them, I looked beside me to see Dan still asleep. Peaceful and with mussed hair, it was easy to think there was nothing wrong. With a sigh, I climbed from bed, hissing at the cold concrete floor as I searched for my slippers. As Dan still lay asleep I figured I could make us both breakfast. I thought he'd prefer porridge over the two other options - cornflakes or toast - since I recall the first night being rather awful, and the cold adding to all dismal feelings.

I was rather pleased with my cooking abilities. Presented with minimal, cheap ingredients and only a mini-fridge, hob, kettle and microwave, I often managed to make something nice. My only hinderence was the lack of a knife.  
"That smells nice." The mumbled voice of Dan still buried beneath the duvet and blankets brought with it a whisper of fondness I had dearly missed. It felt real and genuine, and I did not feel ashamed for enjoying the company - it was a nice change.  
"I've made you a bowl." Dan tried to get up and walk round to the table.  
"I'm so sore," he groaned, unable to move his legs and arms with any speed.  
"Breakfast in bed," I reassured. Rather grateful, he shifted back round and tucked himself in again.

"I should really help you," he professed.  
"Once you have adjusted - then you may. For now you can enjoyed the pleasures of my hospitality." With the assistance of many tea towels, the hot bowl was handed over to Dan, then I went to fetch mine.  
"I put a little bit of sugar on, but only enough for the top of the porridge. The sugar was a treat, and I fear he will not buy it again."  
"We'll be leaving before it'll need replacing," insisted Dan.  
"Maybe," I muttered, "I am hopeful... It's just hard to believe it could be in a matter of days. I've spent so long here, I can hardly imagine being outside once more."  
"All the more reason to leave. The sooner you're out, the sooner you can escape this relationship with Graham," explained Dan. I hummed in agreement.

"Can I ask you, about what has happened?" Dan asked carefully. I glanced between him and my porridge.  
"If you want."  
"Wh- How were you taken?"  
"Umm... I was out, with my family. We'd gone to near Birmingham to visit my Grandparents, and whilst we're there we help round the house a bit. I was making the dessert that night, so was out front picking blackberries for a crumble from the bush a little way down from their house. It's a quiet neighbourhood, there's no worry of me doing that. Then this van pulls up, and a man gets out. I'm wary of him but then he's unfolding this large map, and pointing to a place and asking if I know the way. I explain that I don't live here so am not sure, but can have a look. When I step closer to look at the map he does something - hits me maybe? Next I know, I'm in the back of the van, wrists and ankles bound, and a piece of cloth tight round my mouth keeping me quiet." In talking the porridge was now cool enough to eat.

"He used date rape drugs on me," began Dan. "I bought a coffee but when I was walking to the station found myself dizzy so sat down on a bench. Slipping unconscious, I register someone helping me stand and taking me to a car, or van , or something. I only woke up once we were back here. He must've... Carried me into the house."

"He has so much power - not just physically, but psychologically - over us," I reflected  
"That's how he wants it. That's why he does this, these sick games - they make him feel powerful."  
"It is excellent to have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant."*  
"He just wants little dolls he can do with as he will. Dress up, play family."

"Did you look at the clothes? He might've brought something that'll fit you better." Dan shook his head, so as I took our bowls to the sink, he reached for the bag and began sifting through it.  
"This might be better," he declared, taking out a large knitted jumper. Evidently he would need a hand, so I knelt beside him on the bed and helped. The hoodie was harder to take off than put on, but we soon managed it.  
"Your hair," I commented, only just noticing, "is going curly."  
"That's how it naturally is - I usually straighten it," he explained, as he carefully put the jumper on.  
"Are you feeling better at all?"  
"My arms and wrists are, yes."  
"I am glad. I was worried about them."

I nudged myself from where I knelt to relax and sit down again.  
"What do you do, every day?" asked Dan.  
"I read, clean, and wash if there's warm water. I did write for a time, but the pen ran out and he never replaced it."  
"What did you write about?"  
"People. Relationships. It was far away from this room, and I lived in those characters. Their words were mine - we were intertwined, me and my people."  
"Could I read them?"  
"They got ruined."  
"Oh."  
"Makes me feel like Jo from Little Women, losing my stories. It's funny how attached you grow to words on paper. I figure that's why he took them. He felt there was something else there, something pulling me from him."

"Can't have anything in your life that isn't him."  
"And you, now."  
"It seems a contradiction," Dan commented, "to provide a companion. Counter-productive, really, and gives you far more power." I fingered the threads of the duvet cover, unsure of how to reply. In truth, I knew why Dan was here. It is not hard to read a man like Graham, and he had been clear to me what he wanted anyway.

"He wishes to surround himself with people he owns. Desires to have a family under his command."  
"You mean to say..."  
"He wants to have children, with me. Yes." Dan's breath was held. I could feel the pressure of his thoughts pushing at me - all the unspoken queries - but out of politeness he refused to voice them. I could not bear that.  
"Many times he tried," I explained, "but it never happened. I told him my mum has PCOS, that I might be barren, but he dismissed it in an instant."  
"Maybe he's infertile?"  
"I don't know. What I do know, is that he thought a different... approach might help." I looked up to Dan. "You."  
"He wants me to-"  
"Create him a child, yes."  
"How can you- why are you treating me so kindly, when you know what he intends?"  
"Don't be ludicrous - I treat you kindly because you're human, like me. Graham is a man of fiction and fairytale. You - with your curly hair and bruised arms - are a friend. A true friend, and it is all I could wish for."

"I cannot do it. I can't sleep with you."  
"I don't know what else we could do. Very soon, I am sure, he will try to make us do so. Is it worth injury, death, to avoid the act?"  
"We need to escape," stated Dan. "That is our only option."  
"How?" I proclaimed with a laugh of disbelief.  
"We'll overpower him. Two are far stronger than one."  
"It'll never work. He is strong, and quick to action. I'm weak, and we're both injured - we have no hope against him."  
"But we-"  
"I won't let you walk straight into his hands. He shall not hurt you more."  
"It is not your job to protect me! All things considered, it should be other way round. Instead, I have breakfast in your bed, accept your hospitality... but I am not the one who is broken."

"And I am?" I asked quietly. He was silent, realising what he had said. I peaked up to him, tucking a hair behind my ear.  
"I'm not broken. I'm alright. Through all this time, I think I've stayed sane. I... I'm still me, he hasn't taken me yet."  
"But you're not okay Anna," he stuttered, emotion lacing the words. "He's got inside you - your body, your mind - and it's hurting you."  
"Whatever he's done, he hasn't broken me."  
"No," admitted Dan, hiding his face from me.

I left him to think, going to wash our bowls. Truly, I wanted some time alone to reflect too. My mind was buzzing with what to do, with how to cope. Dan was simulataneously helping me, pulling me back to earth, but also ruining everything. Suddenly, it was becoming too much.

"I can't- can't bear this," I whispered, "It's too much, too real."  
"Anna?" called Dan, clearly not hearing my words but indeed hearing their tone. "Anna, I'm sorry I spoke so bluntly. It was not my place to say anything. I'm no psychiatrist."  
"You're right though," I replied, turning to him with my dripping hands and leaning against the sink. "There's something wrong with me. I can only cope when it's fictional, when it's not real. My stories, Graham - they're all inside my head, and I'm losing track of what is truly happening. I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know who I am." The sobs pulled me down, and I hit the floor with a painful thud, racketing every aching bone in my body and increasing the tears.

An arm came to rest about my shoulders, and I was pulled to a chest. It was warm and breathing, and I turned my face to it. I didn't who it was - Graham, Dan, my mum - but I hid in it anyway. The guardian whispered words, and hushed me until the tears stopped. Even then we did not move. For once, in the last year, I felt at peace.

Morning slipped to afternoon. Dan busied walking about the room, familiarising himself with all its features. It's a task that could take ten minutes, but he insisted on spending hours pacing. I sat on the bed watching him. It's cathartic to gaze as he glided around, the limp still a little visible in his steps.

Graham did not come, so when it became dark and the lights were turned on, we made ourselves mashed potato.  
"I have a plan," he stated when we were sat at the table together.  
"A meal plan?" I asked hopefully.  
"An escape plan."  
"Not quite as appetising."  
"We climb out through the roof light." I placed down my fork, and shook my head.  
"It'll never work. That light is far too high for us to get through - and besides, he would notice immediately."  
"We act quick. Put a chair on the bed and smash the window with a saucepan. Then I hoist you up-"  
"Your arms!"  
"-and come up after you."  
"How? We could not manage it!"

"We'd have more strength than you realise when the adrenaline kicks in."  
"Adrenaline will not get rid of my limitations," I proclaim, looking down to try and find a body part that doesn't hurt. "Sure, I can move about, do the washing and cooking, but I can't pull you through a window!"  
"Anna, how else are we going to get out? He wants to make me rape you, for Christ's sake! Can't you see - we do this now, or it'll be too late. I can't let you hold a child I create - I _can't_."

_Zeep-click-zeap-pah_  
I picked up my fork again, muttering to Dan before taking my final mouthful-  
"Seems the devil heard us talking."

* * *

_*Quote from Measure for Measure (Shakespeare)_


	3. Chapter 3

Immediately scanning the room, Graham saw we were no threat, so walked in and shut the door firmly behind him. Before either of us could speak he had a gun pointed in front of him.  
"You are going to do as I say, and if not I will shoot you. You'll do it or bleed out; make a choice." Dan froze whilst I slowly lowered my cutlery, watching Graham carefully as I did it.  
"Graham?" I mumbled, barely audible over the sound of blood rushing past my ears.  
"I'm sorry darling, but you and I know it's the only way."  
"What are you talking about?"  
"The baby, Anna." Graham looked to Dan. "I'm assuming you already know?" he asked, cocking the gun to point to him.  
"I know," Dan murmured.  
"Then this is simple," he smiled. "Go to the bed, lay her down, and fuck her." Neither of us moved. Graham began to shake the gun, stepping dangerously closer.  
"You heard me. This isn't joke. DO IT."  
"Graham please," I cried, standing to go to him.  
"No!" he yelled, turning the gun to me. "You have to. It's the only way."  
"What if I can't?"  
"You haven't a choice. I'll make you do it, so either this is simple or its not. To bed, my girl, to bed with him." We both turned to Dan, who had gone ten shades red and white and was motionless.

There was no hope. I moved to the bed, lying down and turning my face to the pillows. I heard the men talking, and the sound of boots crossing the concrete floor. With a jolt Dan fell on me, causing me to cough as he landed. I opened my eyes to see he was bleeding again, and Graham was stood just behind him with the gun pointed straight to us.  
"You're hurt," I whispered.  
"It doesn't matter." He closed his eyes. "God, I can't do this."  
"Don't worry; I understand. We're not going to die tonight, so do it. Just go gently, will you?"

_The pages of my book flicker forward to morning_

The room is gleaming white and the sky is blue overhead. It is easy to be swallowed in the light, hidden in the sun, and forget it all. That is the beauty of nature - alike literature, it is a place where you can lose yourself, and escape the trials of the day. When I turned, I found no one beside me - just the imprint of where he had been. Without looking, I tracked Dan going to the toilet, washing his hands, changing his trousers and going to make breakfast. Each action was a new sentence in the passing time.  
"Porridge," he said, voice as warm as the day outside. "In bed." I sat up slowly and smiled to him, taking the bowl held with a tea towel. Although too hot, I took a little bite before he even returned with his.  
"It is perfect. Thank you." Dan nodded his welcome. "How are you - your arm, your face, your legs-"  
"I'm much better, Anna, though feel guilty for it." His eyes brushed over me. "You must rest today - promise me?"  
"Of course," I answered; I was no stranger to recovery. "I will take a bath though."  
"Will the water be warm?" he asked.  
"I hope so."

On that day, the pipes seemed on my side, for the water that came from the taps was beautifully hot. Paired with the cold, I soon filled the bath. Considering how frugal I normally was, it may seem unusual to have such a luxury. However, since Graham had never complained before, I always treasured that one gift to myself.  
"There's some books in the drawer over there, if you'd like." In slow movements, I pulled the jumper over my head, trying not to make a noise when it nudged at where I hurt.  
"They're non-fiction."  
"The others were taken when he destroyed my writing. Probably burned the lot." All that remained was the book on gardening, that on Polish wars and the other on anatomy. Each had been purchased for 30p from a library, as was marked on the inner page.

"I do not mind that you see me," I uttered, talking to his turned back.  
"All the same, I shall face this wall until you are done," he answered. Now naked, I eased my leg up and into the bath tub. The water was not too hot, nor too cold. It was just right. Therefore I stepped in fully, and lowered myself to lie down, legs bent to fit in the tub. Although it hurt, I allowed myself to sit there like that. There was freedom in just lying in the bath tub. Wary not to trouble Dan too much, I soon eased to sit up and began to wash, finding myself surrounded by bubbles of supermarket shower gel. I felt blissfully at peace in it.

When done, I dressed again in something clean (which Dan passed from the cupboard, still looking away). His modesty made me smile.  
"Would you like to wash? I'm certain you might."  
"It would be nice to feel clean," Dan admitted.  
"Well, help yourself. I'll make us some lunch while you do."  
"We only had breakfast an hour ago Anna."  
"I'm hungry," I answered with a grin, pushing the towel to him and walking to the kitchen.

Although careful to be respectful, I caught glimpses of him in the corner of my eye. A flash of white in the daylight. It did not make me uncomfortable - in fact, I felt relaxed just being around him.  
"Would you like jam or... jam?" I asked. Dan snorted, and as he was partially underwater it resulted in a series of bubbles.  
"Sorry," he spluttered, with choked laughter.  
"You're alright. Sandwiches are ready when you are."

Despite Dan's reassurances he was feeling better, I was pleased to see it was true in how he put a jumper on without problem and walked about the room with no limp. Following lunch we decided in favour of a siesta. Once Dan fell asleep, I decided instead to do some stretches. Working my way up my body, I tried to flex every part that hurt, telling myself that would help. I did so on a blanket on the floor, not wanting to wake Dan up by moving the bed. I soon realised this was not a problem, for he did not even wake up when the door lock buzzed.

_Zeep-click-zeap-pah_  
"Good afternoon, sweetheart."  
"You're early, Graham," I observed, not moving from where I sat in my therapeutic yoga.  
"Work let me go." He looked over to Dan. "Ought we talk quietly?"  
"Wouldn't want to disturb his sleep."  
"Not at all." The bag Graham held was placed on the counter and he walked to me. "Might I join you?"  
"It's not what you're expecting."  
"Well, what is it then?" he asked, ignoring my displeased expression.  
"I'm stretching, it's not really a two person thing." Still two legs came to rest either side of mine, and I could feel hot breath on the back of my neck.

_Not Graham, that's Dan. That's Dan protecting me from a nightmare. This isn't real. I'm not real._

"Look at him," uttered Graham, resting his head on my shoulder. "He's already like our child."  
"Dan's older than me."  
"He's still fresh though. You've aged, like wine, and come to be fruitful - he is still young, and undeveloped." I looked over to my right, asking-  
"What's in the bag, Graham?"  
"Just groceries," he answered, "oh, and this!" He stood quickly and hurried to the bag, removing a small cardboard box.  
"It's too early to take a pregnancy test," I protested.  
"No, you must now, I need to know." He grabbed my arms and pulled me up, and I grunted at the sudden action and pressure on injuries.  
"Come on darling," he encouraged, placing a hand to my waist and guiding me to the other side of the room.

"It won't be reliable. We have to wait a week or two before doing it." Graham laughed and opened the box anyway.  
"Don't be ridiculous - you take a pregnancy test straight away on Sims."  
"Yeah, but that's not real."  
"Anna, take the test." He stepped forwards to unbutton my jeans but I pushed his hand away, relenting so I could at least do it myself. I held my hand out and he placed the test in it.  
"Could you look away?" I pleaded. Graham shrugged and walked to other side of the room, still watching but no longer so close. Although it took a little manoeuvring, I managed to do it, flushing the toilet and placing it on the counter to work whilst I washed my hands.

"See, that wasn't so hard," hummed Graham, coming to wrap his arms round my waist. With a sharp exhalation, I pulled away to dry my hands. Graham waited with a tired expression.  
"Come on, my girl, let's just sit together for a moment." I watched him return to the blanket where I was sat before, patting at his lap for me to come.

_It's not real, you're just a simulation. You're not in control of your actions, you're just a character in a book._

I walked to him and rested myself against his chest, cautiously holding to him. He was colder than Dan, and his heart was slower. His whispered words were not so pleasant, and I endeavoured to ignore them and just focus on my own breathing, my own heart, rather than his.  
"You smell nice," murmured Graham, rubbing his nose against my hair. That I could not ignore. Instead I pulled my head away, to against his chest and under his chin so he could not do that.  
"So timid, so sweet..." They continued on and on, expressing his love of me over and over.

"Can we check the test now?" I asked, extricating myself from him. He let me go, but quickly followed, at my back once more.  
"One blue line, what's that mean?" I dared not speak, for I knew he would not be happy. Graham went to find the box from the floor, looking through the instructions for a guide. It was easy to tell when he found his answer, for the box came sailing past me and hit against the wall.  
"God dammit," he yelled. Rustles from the bed informed us Dan was awake. "It should've worked!"  
"Its an early test, Graham, I could still be pregnant."  
"But you're probably not!" he shouted, storming over to me. Frantically I stepped backwards until I hit against the wall. "You!" he yelled, caging me in and smashing a hand on the wall by my head, "will do it again."  
"The test?"  
"No; in bed, with him."

Dan had stood from the bed, and was firm on his feet as he stared back.  
"Tommorow," he stated, "for Anna is still not recovered from yesterday."  
"We've been at it like bunnies before and you've been fine," he cried, turning to me. I shrunk away, afraid of what to say.  
"Tommorow, please," I whispered.  
"Tommorow then!" growled Graham, swiping the bag from the counter. "Until then, you can bloody well starve." He punched the numbers of the door and slid out, slamming it behind him.  
_Zeep-click-zeap-pah._

"Anna, are you alright?" Dan came to me quickly, offering an arm for me to hold to. I gripped him then held more tightly, wrapping my arms about him and closing my eyes against his collar.  
"I'm tired of this," I whispered.  
"We'll leave tonight, I promise." As much as that terrified me, I still calmed as he hugged me. "You don't have to worry. It'll all be over soon."  
"Are we going through the roof light?"  
"I think we can manage it. Especially if we put the table on the bed - it'd be far more stable than a chair.  
"Could the bed take the weight?"  
"Hopefully; it's our best shot." I nodded and pulled away from him to sit down on the bed.

"When will we do it?"  
"At night. You rest now, and when it is dark we will go."  
"I'm not sure I can sleep," I mumbled. Dan walked over to me, a soft smile on his face.  
"Lay down Anna." I did so, and closed my eyes as my head hit the pillow. Beside me, I felt Dan lay, then felt the hand at my head, smoothing my hair. I opened my eyes and looked to him.  
"Are you alright? I can stop - just say the words."  
"It's nice," I admitted, "thank you." Dan smiled, and continued. To the sound of his calm breathes and feeling of his gentle care, I slipped off to sleep.

"It's time, Anna."  
"What?" I grumbled, still half-asleep.  
"We need to go. Now."  
"Why... It's-"  
"I fell asleep too. I don't what time it is, but it could be near morning, I can't tell. We have to go."  
"Okay," I mumbled, easing myself from bed and into my slippers. Dan held a warmer jumper for me. I thanked him and slipped it on.  
"Right, I'll take the bulk of the weight - do say if it's getting to much," explained Dan, walking to one end of the table. "We'll carry it to the foot of the bed then lift it up and on." I nodded, stretching gently before walking forward to take my end.  
"On three: one, two-" grunted Dan, and on the third beat we each lifted. It was heavy, but still only a plastic wood, so we managed to shift it across the room. Being lighter than expected, Dan found he could actually move it himself, and so mostly took over when it came to lifting the table onto the bed.

"Perfect," he observed, shaking it check its steadiness. Whilst it certainly waned with any force, it would have to do.  
"Be careful climbing on," I warned. Dan heeded my warning, and (having retrieved a saucepan) carefully climbed onto the shaking table.  
"Take this." I handed him one of my tshirts, telling him to "hold it over you eyes, to protect them the glass." He did so, and when he held the saucepan ready, I turned to face the wall.

_Crash-sshhhhhh-smish-smish-err-smish_  
Dan continued hitting at it, breaking away bits of glass from the edges so it was possible to hold to.  
"Right, come on, quick." He threw the pan and top to the floor, and beckoned me. I all but ran to him, scurrying frantically to the table, cursing when I felt glass, but on with him quick as I could manage.  
"I'll lift you so you can hold on, then help you pull yourself up, okay?" I nodded, looking up to see how high the light was. It was surprising Dan managed to smash it, for I could not reach to touch it. Feet placed wide apart for stability, Dan wrapped his arms about my hips, and grunted as he held me up. I clawed frantically to the edge to stop my precarious wobbling, and gasped at the glass I felt cutting me.  
"Got it?"  
"Yeah." Dan shifted his grip to my lower legs, holding me up higher. I reached up my arms through the window, and with Dan's help pulled through enough that I could lever myself out.

_Free, I was free._

"Dan, take my arm," I demanded. I lay flat on the roof, hoping that would prevent me from falling back to him.  
"You can't, no, I'll..."  
"Dan," I hissed, terrified as he began climbing off the table. He returned with a chair.  
"That's not safe." Dan ignored me, climbing onto the table with his chair. I looked behind me, finding what must be Graham's house. There were lights in the windows, and I swore I could hear somebody coming.  
"Quick!" I cried. In a few short movements, Dan climbed onto the chair and grabbed to the roof light. The chair, table, and bed shook dangerously beneath him, as if they would all collapse. I grabbed his arms, trying to help pull him up, but it was mostly through his own strength that he hauled himself through.

Behind me was the unmistakable sound of a door opening, followed by heavy footsteps slamming up a gravel footpath. The figure of Graham came to light, and he was holding a gun.  
"Don't do something you'll regret," he shouted, sprinting down the path. His garden was long and narrow - so narrow that the neighbour's fence was just to the side of where we were perched.  
"Over there, now," I instructed. Me and Dan stumbled to our feet, off balance on the slanted roof, our footing only visible from the light of the room beneath us.

_Bang_  
A gun shot sounded.  
_Bang_  
Were at the edge, jumping, tumbling down-  
_Bang, bang- smash-lang-gur_  
We fell through tall bushes and trees, finally slamming to the floor, though slowed by the shrubs. There was a simultaneous cry. Every part of me was on fire... And yet we stood and we ran. We ran like there was no tommorow, up to the conservatory door of the neighbour's house.

We banged on it, screaming "help, help!" A figure came rushing to the door, and froze when he saw us, covered in glass, brambles, bruises and blood. He turned to lock a door to the rest of the house behind him.  
_Bang_  
A shot fired through the fence, narrowly missing us.  
_Bang_  
Another hit the conservatory, smashing a pane.  
"Please!" we cried. The door unlocked and we hurried in, then the man was frantically trying to unlock the door he just locked.  
_Bang_  
More glass smashed. Then the door was open and we're in the house and it shut behind us and it locked and- and- and there was silence. The man was terrified, and at the door was clearly the wife, the children behind her on the stairs.

Everything was whirring around me. I hardly noticed when I fell, and when Dan collapsed by me.

_We're free, we're out, I'm free._

There were hands and voices and bright lights and sirens. There was a solitary gun shot. Someone was telling me "it's alright, you're safe now," and then there was darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

I didn't realise it, but it was a long time before I truly woke up. There were periods of consciousness, but it was like waking up inside a cloud, or staring straight out of the roof light and being hidden in the sun. Except, when I finally came around, there was no roof light above my head. The bed was too plush and the air around me too warm. There was no icy morning to hide under a blanket from.

There was no Dan either.  
"Hello?" I called, trying desperately to open my eyes and see around. Slowly things became clear, and colour arrived revealing me to be in a hospital room.  
"You're awake!" gasped a voice, running over to me.  
"Oh, my girl, you're here."  
"Graham?" When I looked, I realised the man was not Graham; he was my father. "Dad," I whispered. I wanted to reach a hand out to him but found every part of me heavy. Behind him stood... Stood mum.

She was muttering with a huge smile and many tears, muttering: "I can't believe it, I can't believe it."  
"Is it really you?" I asked.  
"Of course, Anna, dear." It seemed that, for once, they weren't just figments of my imagination. Seeing them again was bittersweet... I loved them, I missed them, but I was different. My life had not been with them for a long time, and in a weird way I just wanted to go back. Even though I didn't.

"Where... Where's Dan?"  
"He's in another ward, sweetie."  
"Is he alright?" I was suddenly short of breath.  
"He's fine. I promise."  
"Can I see him?" They shared a look, clearly deciding something.  
"I'll ask the doctors," reassured Dad. I looked to him, not speaking. "Now?" I nodded. "Okay sweetie." With a kiss to my mother's head he left the room.

Mum sat at my side, holding my hand. I watched the gesture with a profound sense of detachment. Alike every affection Graham gave, yet I felt no guilt in enjoying my mother's warmth. In enjoying her touch.  
"Doctor says," began Dad, stepping back into the room, "that you are welcome to go see Dan once you are rested, but you're still too tired right now." Quite appropriately, I yawned, causing them both to smile.

"What about Graham?" I questioned. "Where is he; is he in the hospital?" As I asked the question, my eyes slipped.  
"He's not here-" started my mum, but time flicked by. The reader read on and I awoke in what seemed to be evening. Sunset painted the room warm oranges and pinks.  
"It feels like home," I thought, closing my eyes to bathe in it.

_It felt like the room. Fiction and reality where merging. Was I in the room now? Was I ever in the room?  
_ _Surely the state of my body should be evidence I had been... But still I allowed myself to doubt._

"Is Graham here?" I asked again. When no-one replied, I realised the room was empty.  
"Hello?" I called. Still nobody replied, so I decided I would try to get up. My body did not hurt like it did in the room, but there was a numb ache still permeating every part of me. Despite that, I found myself mobile. It began with little stretches of fingers and toes, progressing on to slow flexes of my legs. I was weak but could see no cast, so clearly was not broken. In slow movements, I was up. It felt as if every bone in my back clicked. When I finally stood up, my legs were unsteady but it felt more due to having spent too long in bed. Once I was up, I didn't have too much trouble in walking - the action seemed to bring a little energy back to me.

A passing nurse paused to watch me.  
"What are you doing out of bed?" she asked sweetly.  
"I was just looking for someone."  
"Well, let's save the searches for after the doctor has agreed, yes?" Reluctantly, I let her help me return to my bed.  
"Is it someone I can help you find?" she inquired. I had been hoping to look for my parents, but when she asked, only one name came to mind.  
"Dan. He was with me, with Graham."  
"I'll go ask for you."  
"Thanks," I smiled.

She hurried away, brogues clicking on the floor. I watched her leave, and only then noticed all the other people on the ward. Until that moment, my focus had been so narrow that I hadn't seen them there. In the bed next to me was an older women doing her best not to stare at me.  
"Hi," I mumbled. She glanced to me, rather guilty, and returned the greeting. Although not really wanting to talk with her, I couldn't help but ask-  
"Do you know what date it is?"  
"Um, the 25th I believe. A Wednesday."  
"Of... What?"  
"May. 2016."  
"Oh. Thank you," I answered, turning away to lie down again.

That meant I was indeed nineteen. It also meant I had been with Graham for nearly two years - since the Summer of 2014. The door to the ward opened, and my parents were there.  
"It's not visiting hours, but they allowed us an exception because... Well, because you are you." I looked to the other people on the ward.  
"That's not fair," I argued.  
"You have been missing, darling. It's understandable-"  
"-That everyone would want to see their family, if they could - if they wanted to - they would want to..." I lost myself in the words. It was then that the nurse returned.

"Dan's been told you're awake, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see him, as it is nearly tea time here."  
"Can I not see him now?"  
"I'm sorry... There's certain rules we have to stick by - to keep the place running."  
"Oh, thank you," I answered, turning back to my parents. "I guess that does make me the same as everyone else."  
"They should make an exception for you," argued Mum.  
"It's alright - I can wait. Besides, after tea I expect I'll fall right back to sleep again." A couple of minutes later, a nurse told us that my parents would have to leave now.  
"I'll see you tommorow."  
"Yes. We love you-"  
"-Very much." Each displayed the affection; mum with a kiss to my head, and dad with a hand to my hair.

_It felt like Graham. Why did it feel like Graham? They're my parents, for goodness sake... and yet it all came back to him._

In the morning, a man with a wheelchair escorted me to a suitable room for seeing Dan. The wait felt awfully long. As soon as the door opened, and I saw the tufts of slightly curly hair, I stood and walked to him, as fast as my feeble legs would take me.  
"Hello," he smiled. I paused at his casts.  
"Can I hug you?"  
"Of course - these arms are bound like cement - won't damage from a hug." At his words, I held to him, feeling immediately at peace.  
"Are you alright?" I asked, hearing sniffles.  
"I'm fine - more than fine. Glad to see you up." I pulled back, but sill close enough that (from where his cast lay) he could put a hand to my arm.

_It was Dan's hand. It was Dan's heart. He was there._

"I missed you," I murmured.  
"You've hardly been awake," he laughed.  
"What do you mean?"  
"We escaped days ago - you were not so well for quite some time. But you're here now." I smiled. "We best sit down though - your poor legs won't take much more." I held to his cast, allowing him to help me to a chair. He sat right beside me.  
"What happened?" I asked.  
"The paramedics came, took us away. We were both unconscious, but I came to in the ambulance. We were taken A&E - I can't really remember what happened, but Phil told me I'd broken both my arms, but that most my injuries are not permanent. They're just keeping me here for monitoring, and for some internal stuff they were worried about."  
"But you're ok?"  
"I'm being discharged today," he smiled.

I leant against him, laying my head on his shoulder.  
"What about me? Nobody's told me anything about myself."  
"Am I allowed to say?"  
"I should know already; Please tell me."  
"You... You've got some longstanding injuries they tried to fix up. Honestly, I'm amazed you got on so well with them - making me breakfast-"  
"That's not exactly hard," I interrupted.  
"You were in a lot of pain though." I nuzzled my head to him, breathing in his soft smell.  
"There were other things - bruises and the like that will fade. What they're more worried about is your strength - you're quite malnourished. Also some very serious injuries... You've got some damage from his abuse, to say."  
"I'm not surprised," I mumbled with a yawn. "Why I am so tired though?"  
"Shock? I don't know. They didn't tell me that. Maybe it's just your body realising it can finally relax."  
"Maybe," I agreed.

Dan shifted so I sat up, able to look at him as I spoke.  
"Who's Phil?"  
"Hm? Oh, Phil - he's my... Friend."  
"Yeah..." I prompted. Dan smiled and looked down.  
"Good friend," he continued. I raised my eyebrows, suggesting-  
"Maybe more than a friend?" Dan nudged me, tongue between his teeth.  
"You can't tell anyone. You must promise."  
"Of course," I smiled. "So, when do I get to meet him."  
"You're eager!" he chuckled. "I suppose we could come in visiting hours together."  
"Yes!" I grinned. Careful he was comfortable, I rested my head back down on him and closed my eyes, just listening to his breathing.

"Come, won't you?"  
"As much as I can," he promised. "I'm sure you'll have lots of visitors."  
"I don't want lots of visitors - just you."  
"Your parents," he reminded me.  
"Yeah - I suppose." I could feel Dan frowning. I knew it was weird, but there was no point in lying to him. In fact, was the only person I trusted with that truth.


	5. Chapter 5

"You've come on leaps and bounds since waking," detailed my doctor. "I'm afraid there are some issues we want to keep monitoring, so no leaving just yet, but I'm happy for you to walk about the ward if you would like."  
"That'll be nice," I smiled. "I would like to be moving again."  
"Take it slowly and you'll be fine," he reassured me. "Also you'll find your tiredness reducing rapidly now you're recovering - soon back to normal, we hope."  
"Good."  
"Well, enjoy your morning - I shall see you later."  
"Yep - bye," I replied. He waved once, then walked away quickly. 

"You're looking well," commented Grace. She was the lady in the bed beside me whom I had begun to talk to more. "You've got a... bloom. A glow."  
"I'm glad to hear it," I answered, raising a hand to my cheek to see if I could feel that. In the distance, a bell chimed - it was 10 o'clock, so morning visiting hours had begun. My parents came that morning. It was lovely... But it was wrong. There was something wrong, with me. I just couldn't feel them there. However I couldn't bear to tell them that, they were so happy to see me. With them were family - grandparents, cousins, uncles. I was glad to see them all - of course I was - but something inside me was terrified of how weird my brain felt.

In the afternoon came Dan, accompanied by an equally tall, black-haired friend. Suddenly everything was buzzing. He seemed to create colour inside me, and I was so glad to see him.  
"This is Phil," he introduced.  
"Hi," chirped the man with an awkward wave.  
"Hi," I smiled back, dipping my head and looking back to Dan to see his cheeks rosy as he blushed. The men sat where my parents had been. I could not stop smiling at them.

You could tell they were a couple. There's something to be seen in the distance they sat apart - not touching, but so close that you could practically see the love whispering in the air between them.  
"How long?" I asked Dan.  
"Five years." Phil frowned at our cryptic conversation.  
"Ohhh..." he interjected, realising what we spoke of. Now they were both smiling. It was unavoidable.

"Have you... What... Do they talk about us? On the news, in the papers, what are they saying?"  
"I haven't been reading them," admitted Dan. "Afraid to, but Phil does."  
"It's all facts - dates, times, the like," explained Phil  
"Have they interviewed him?" I asked.  
"Who, Anna?"  
"Graham." Both men were silent. Phil looked to Dan, and Dan to his hands. "What is it?" I asked. "There's something you're not saying."

Dan raised his head and looked straight to me as he spoke.  
"Graham... Graham's dead."  
"What?"  
"He's dead, Anna."  
"But... Why? Surely they arrested him."  
"He shot himself. The final shot, remember?" The shot that sounded when the sirens came. The shot that did not shatter glass. The shot that shattered his...  
"No. He's not dead. He... What?"  
"It's over. He's gone," whispered Dan. I closed my eyes, and before I knew it was crying. Sobbing. Dan, with his broken arms, just moved his chair closer. Phil offered me a tissue and sat on the other side of the bed, an arm round me. I sank my head to him.

_Graham was gone. In his wake he left a boy with broken bones and me with a broken brain. There would be no more cold nights, or cheap meals. I wouldn't have to pretend anymore. I could let him go._

_Yet I could not. He was everywhere I looked. In every man that passed, in every shadowy figure. Somehow, only Dan escaped this label (and Phil, by proxy). He was pure, and he was separate. All the peace of mind I craved was encapsulated in him._

_It did not make sense. I had known Dan just a week, but I felt closer to him than anyone. Maybe it was because he understood. He knew Graham and he knew me. It seemed no one else was yet to realise the intricacies of my mind: how I couldn't tell the difference between fiction and reality. How I still felt his touch, even now, even though (at the time) I had felt so distant._

When I was allowed to watch them, I saw how news broadcasts spoke of his suicide. They said he was vile, that he held me all that time in a shed in his garden. The man in the house next door told the camera how we were scarlet and indigo from our experiences. There were images of the shed - you could see the smashed rooflight. You could see the light inside still on and, if you looked carefully, the white of the duvet beneath.

"Do you ever think," I asked Dan on a later morning, "that we could move on?"  
"Of course we can. We could never forget, but we can learn to live again."  
"Have you?"  
"I'm getting there. I've got Phil, I've got my home." I frowned. "Sorry. It's insensitive. I was there days and you years-"  
"Please, I don't care for an apology. I want to hear what you have to say so don't censor it out of pity."  
"All the same," mumbled Dan, "we're very different."  
"You're all I have. Now Graham has gone, now the room has gone, you're all that is holding me together."  
"What do you mean Anna?" asked Dan slowly. Clearly he was worried by that.

"I mean I feel lost and you're grounding me. You were there and now you're here and that feels the one true thing."  
"It's all true Anna. It all happened and is happening."  
"No, I don't - I don't remember like that. In my head it's all pretend, and I'm not sure what anything meant. Why it happened. Just that it is not real. Not all of it."  
Dan stayed with me for as long as he could, helping me write down every true thing he was there for. Every event that truly happened.

Once done, it sat in a word document on my lap. Dan was by my side, taking a moment to rest as he waited for Phil to drive to the hospital. I watched him, ever peaceful when he rests. Graham liked that too - that innocence and purity. It is a beautiful thing. A beautiful thing Graham tarnished.  
"Will you come soon?"  
"I'll come tommorow and the day after, but soon I'll be moving back to London."  
"So soon?"  
"It's home for me. I think everything will get better once I'm back there." I nod my head, but once he's gone am left to realise what that means.

It means the one person I trust is leaving. It means I'm alone.

On the final morning I can see Dan before he leaves, he asked a dreaded question.  
"Have you... Had your period, Anna?"  
"No..."  
"Then have you checked? Again." He looked to my stomach and I held a hand to it. Suddenly I realised the possibility. How is it I could've forgotten?  
"Grace said I had a glow. What if she meant-" Dan interrupted me by nudging at his pockets with his cast. I reached forward and removed a familiar cardboard box.  
"Just stop panicking and take the test."  
"Can you come with me?"  
"Of course." My legs were much stronger than they had been, but I still appreciated the casted arm Dan offered me. He waited outside the toilets, so was there when I emerged with the test.  
"It's not ready yet - needs another minute or so." I was shaking so much I thought I might fall. Dan stood close to me, as if in a hug, and rested a chin on my head.

"We'll be alright, you and I. I'm here for you, always. Whenever you want to speak, just call me. I'll pick up the phone straight away."  
"Alright," I mumbled. I could feel his warm breathes, and with them took the courage to look down.  
"Ahh," I cried, staggering and falling to the floor, away from.  
"What does it say?" Dan didn't look at the test in my hand - only at me.  
"It, it- it says no. I'm not pregnant." The amount of relief was overwhelming. He sat by me on the floor in the hospital corridor and just shared that tide of emotion.

Once we had returned to the ward, and Dan had to leave, I asked-  
"Do you think I would've been a good mum?"  
"You'd have been one of the best. In spite of it all, you know how to love, Anna." He had tears in his eyes. "When I met you, you cared for me like I was your son. You saw how hurt I was and knew how to help. You made me breakfast and you kept me warm and it was the only thing I could've wished for at the time."  
"But my head..."  
"In time, with help, you will see clearly again. Then you will know what is true. You'll understand, and you'll be able to find someone to spend your life with." I smiled. Clearly he was thinking of Phil. He smiled. It was all we could do.

Time passed, and as it did I became better at recognising that turning of pages. My psychiatrist helped me with that. As Dan had promised, I learned to see clearly again. He thought his suggestion of reading the Hunger Games was a primary reason why, even though I had to keep reminding him that my mother came up with the idea before he did.

Alike Peeta, the need to ask "real or not real" faded. I found my home once more with my parents, my family. Graham's love became a separate thing. Never forgotten, no, but I learnt to live again.

When, many months later, we finally spoke out about what had happened, it was to a camera in front of a black and white chequered bed. Beside me was a boy who had learned to embrace his curly hair and who, beneath the camera, held tightly to my hand.


End file.
